(NOTE: The following is an off-season collab that has no bearing on 2018 or 2019 RP. But i hope you enjoy reading it anyway :P.
(Special thanks to TheDeleter for writing Vince)
If you can look into the seeds of time,
And say which grain will grow and which will not;
Speak then to me.
And say which grain will grow and which will not;
Speak then to me.
- William Shakespeare, Macbeth (1605), Act I, Scene 3, line 58
The first thing Vince knew about it was when the kid burst into his store.
He couldn’t have been any older than nineteen. He looked about as generic as a person could be - brown hair, scrawny frame, blue eyes. His face was red from exertion and his eyes were as wide as dinner plates. And he didn’t do himself any favours by tripping over his own feet and crashing to the floor of the store. Not the best first impression.
Yet his first words upon seeing Vince were definitely not generic.
“Hide me,” he whined, in the voice a hunted animal might use.
Vince blinked. That wasn't a common request. Thankfully, Beach Episode was a little quicker on the uptake. A few cardboard stands shuffled over, covering up the windows and making a small fort for the newcomer to hide behind.
“Um, hi?” The black-haired man took a few steps closer, staring at the mop of brown hair peeking out from behind a Zeph-O Max standee. “Welcome to Beach Episode? Are the cops after you?”
“Is that what they call them here?” The stranger quickly scurried behind the cardboard fort, as if a little too trusting of the flimsy protection it provided. “Well, yes, if that’s how you wanna put it.”
“I don't think there's any other word for cops.” Vince frowned. “If you're a space criminal or whatever, I probably shouldn't be hiding you. What the fuck is happening?”
The kid turned back to look at him. His voice took on a hysterical edge.
“Nothing! I haven’t even done anything yet! And that’s the problem! They won’t listen to me! It’s some Minority Report shit where they think I’m gonna do something and-”
TIME MAZINE!
A flash of red lit up the window, followed by the thrumming of some kind of engine. The ground shook as something heavy thumped down outside.The kid ducked behind the standees, muttering “ohgodohgodohgod” in a kind of frenzied mantra.
Footsteps approached. Boots.
Vince sighed. It looked like he was back in the game.
“I'm too old for this shit. Uh, no I'm not. Stay here, kid. I'll talk this out. Store, don't get involved unless shit goes really bad, okay?”
He walked outside, unsure what he was going to see.
---
The man didn’t look very much like a cop. His hair was a mess, and his uniform could best be described, at least by Vince, as “biker leather meets hammer pants”. But he carried himself with definite purpose, and his face had a hard and stern look to it. He also held what kind of looked like a cell phone masquerading as a gun in one hand. Behind him, the strange vehicle he had no doubt arrived in thrummed quietly.
More noticeable, however, was what he had on his waist.
Another ‘belt’. God damn it.
Vince sighed.
“Look, I'm not taking any more applicants for Rider School.” He watched the other man's face carefully. “If you wanna join, you gotta give me a reference. And five dollars for orange slices. And there's no parking for your fucking huge space bike.”
The man didn't respond. Not even a twitch.
“Okay, cool. You no-sold my bullshit. So what are you here for?”
When the newcomer spoke, his voice had an edge to it.
“You’re Vincent Simmons. Kamen Rider Ex-Aid.” He said it matter-of-factly, as if he was remarking on the coffee he’d ordered.
Vince's eyes narrowed. “You're Blast Hardcheese, dickhead extraordinaire.”
The man’s own eyes did likewise. “Geiz Nakamura, Intergalactic Time Patrol. From the year Twenty-Sixty-Eight. I have reason to believe that you may be harbouring a wanted Class-5 Projected Time Delinquent, predicted guilty on multiple counts of murder and manslaughter, wilful alteration of the timeline and conspiracy to commit war crimes.” His grip adjusted on his weapon.
“So if you don’t mind,” he continued, “I have a duty to arrest that boy before he tries to become the God-Emperor of Time. And no, I am not making that up.”
Vince stared at Geiz, then at the belt, and then back at Geiz.
“I'm gonna say that's horseshit. We have a spirit of time hanging around here. I'm sure he wouldn't let… time Hitler turn up in our timeline. Pretty sure he's got this place on lockdown. Also,” he pointed a finger at Geiz. “You're not a cop. I know cops. One of them is a fat gay cheetah. Where's your badge? Or your warrant? Or literally anything that'd give you, like, authority?”
For response, Geiz held up his other hand. Something flashed in his palm, and a hologram flashed out, showing something that looked like an identification card.
“Identity Chip,” he explained. “All patrolmen have them. And in case you didn’t listen the first time, I’m from the future. Or at least, a possible future. The time spirit couldn’t manage all the timelines, so the ITP was founded to handle inter-temporal crimes. It’s our job to stop people from altering the timeline in unnatural ways - like the Aggie incident.”
He indicated the store with his gun.
“Our systems have predicted that the boy in there will eventually become a tyrant and dictator of the whole planet. Causing irreparable damage to the timeline in the process. As this planet is under ITP jurisdiction, I was sent to prevent that happening. And I would really appreciate it,” he added, with an edge to his voice, “if you didn’t obstruct me in the course of justice.”
“Nah.”
Dawn was probably gonna kill him.
“I'm not convinced. Here, we don't prosecute on something someone might do like twenty years in the future. We have a legal system. Also…”
Vince fished out his belt and slapped it to his waist. “I don't like your hair.”
Geiz stared.
Then he heaved a sigh and pocketed his weapon.
“I can’t blame you. You’re from the past, you don’t understand. And i’d rather not have to fight one of the Kobbers…”
Up until this point, Vince hadn’t noticed what the other man was wearing on his wrists. But it became apparent when he detached something from the brace - a small, circular object that looked vaguely like a stopwatch. His fingers twisted the bezel until it clicked, forming a face on the front.
“But I can’t let you stop me.”
His thumb depressed the button on the top.
GEIZ!
Vince sighed. Oh, good. He fished in his pocket for his cart and pressed the button.
MIGHTY ACTION X!
Geiz slammed his own device into a slot on the side of his belt, then pushed a button on the top of that. To Vince’s surprise, it clicked loose, tilting to one side. The image of a digital clock display flashed behind him, as if counting down.
The newcomer gripped both sides of the Driver…
“HENSHIN!”
...and span the whole thing a complete three-hundred-and-sixty degrees, the device clicking back into place where it started.
KAMEN RIDER GEIZ!
Alrighty, no fucking about in chibi mode. This guy might have resembled an angry Casio, but if he was a Rider, he could probably fight.
“Super Henshin!”
Vince slammed the cart home and wrenched the lever.
SWITCH ON! LEVEL UP!
MIGHTY JUMP! MIGHTY KICK!
MIGHTY, MIGHTY ACTION! X!
The two Riders stared each other down. The orange eyes of Vince’s helmet glared, but the yellow visor opposite didn’t return the emotion.
“Your move, clock head.”
Geiz extended his hand, and something materialized in his grasp. Vince barely registered the electronic drone of SPACE-TIME AXE! before the other Rider was upon him, swinging for his head.
---
Shockingly, the sight of two Kamen Riders fighting in front of the store did not help the kid’s mood any. In fact, that seemed to make things worse.
The box fort suddenly looked flimsy and unhelpful. So he’d retreated to the now-infamous adult section, as far away from the curtain as possible. He was sitting on the floor, hands over his head and shivering, the mantra of “ohgodohgodohgod” replaced with violent hyperventilating. He didn’t even seem to have noticed the veritable piles of erotica all around him - not that would have helped his mood any.
The store considered this. For the sake of dignity, it made the adult material shuffle away out of sight, leaving only empty shelves.
It had learnt a lot from Llarness. People who were emotionally vulnerable could be taken advantage of, or be restored. It was tricky, and it didn’t understand what the difference actually was. But this looked like an opportune time to test it.
There was a scraping sound. On the floor in front of the child was a belt. Identical to the one Geiz wore.
The boy looked up, and blinked. Some of the fear seemed to fade from his face.
“...huh,” he said. “You can do that?”
The store made no noise of assent, but there was a suggestion that it had. The belt was nudged closer.
The kid stared at it for a bit.
Then he reached into his pocket and pull out something.
“I found this when I came home one day,” he’d explained. “There was no note or anything. And then the day after that, this Geiz guy started coming after me. I think it came from the same place he did? Because he’s got ones that are a lot like this. Other than that, I’ve no clue what this is or how it came to me.”
He fell silent for a bit more.
And then he reached out and picked up the belt. He examined it very carefully, but didn’t seem to find anything amiss.
“I’m probably the last person who should be wearing something like this. I don’t even know how to fight.”
The store thought about this.
Then some images appeared. Photos. Vince, tired but proud, standing in front of an run down gym building, the hasility raised sign of “Rider School” above the door. Vince sitting on the couch with Koakuma, playing video games and laughing. Vince, Rider suit on but helmet off, pulling someone out of a road accident, his charge dazed but alive.
There was a pause, as if it was waiting for him to interpret or make a decision.
It took a moment, but a small smile appeared at the corner of the boy’s mouth.
“...I’m Kouta, by the way. Kouta Tokiwa.”
Then he clapped the belt to his waist.
SPACE-TIME DRIVER!
---
Geiz reeled back as a harsh blow from Vince cracked him in the face. He took a moment to rebalance himself, adjusting his grip on his axe and gasping.
“For someone who doesn’t even like being a Rider,” he managed at last, “you’re pretty damn good at it.”
“Or maybe you’re a shit time cop.” Vince twirled his Breaker like a baton, advancing slowly. “You ever thought of maybe finding another line of work, Butch Casio? One that doesn’t involve chasing scared kids around.”
“You didn’t let me finish.”
Geiz suddenly pulled another of the watch-things off his arm brace.
“You’re good,” the officer snapped. “But you’re still obstructing an officer. And that means I’m taking you both in.”
DRIVE!
Geiz ducked under the swing aimed at him, kicked Vince back, plugged the second watch in and span the belt.
DRIVE! DR-IIIIIIVE~!
The future Rider took a moment to adjust his shoulders, grunting.
“A bit bulky,” he observed. “But it’ll do.”
Then he blurred forward, like a sports car going from zero to sixty. And the punch that hit Vince this time sent him flying back.
“Fuuuuuu - “
Vince hit the wall and managed to stay on his feet with a grunt. Yep. That hurt. And the dude moved like lightning. And what the fuck was a Drive?
Chocolate blocks, don’t fail me now. He lashed out at the nearest one, smashing it and gasping the power-up inside.
IRON SKIN!
Nope. Not good. And now Geiz was on him. The blows landed, and though Vince managed to stay on his feet this time, and each blow rang out like iron, they still hurt like hell. His only consolation was that it probably hurt the other guy as much as it hurt him. And he didn’t have the space to grab for a cart.
Shit. Shit! Now what?
As was often the case, Vince’s question was answered in the way he least wanted it to be.
Geiz apparently didn’t hear that, or was so busy punching Vince that he didn’t care. Which bit him in the ass when another fist connected with the side of his head. Time seemed to freeze, the moment hanging dramatically. Then the red Rider was launched sideways, revolving like a catherine wheel, to embed himself into a tree in an explosion of ruptured bark.
The fist’s owner slowly straightened up.
KAMEN RIDER ZI-O!
Vince stared at the new Rider. Then he turned to the store.
“Did you do this?”
The store made a wibble at the accusation.
“What do you mean, he had it on him all along?”
Wibble.
“You gotta be pulling my pasta.”
By that moment, Geiz had extracted himself from the tree. When he saw the new Rider, he froze as if he’d just walked in on a murder scene.
“What have you done?” he whispered.
Then he said it again, in a kind of wail mixed with a shout: “What the hell have you done?!”
“I didn’t do shit!” Vince pointed a finger at the storefront. “Ask the store! It does shit like this all the time!”
Wibble.
“You just copied his Driver?! Is there anything you can’t do? And, ideally, you shouldn’t?!”
“I’ve made up my mind,” said Zi-O, suddenly. He began to walk towards Geiz, who was looking at him with mixed fascination and horror. Something yellow fell from his visor - half of it had cracked from the punch. As he approached, the white-and-pink Rider held out a hand, and a weapon materialized in a flash of light.
EDGE OF TIME! BLADE!
“I’m not going to run away anymore.”
Geiz seemed to come to himself, and straightened out. “Fine. Saves me the trouble of hunting you down.”
Then he lunged, swinging his axe. It clashed against Zi-O’s sword, and the two struggled for a moment. Then Zi-O suddenly twisted sideways, causing Geiz to stumble forwards as he overbalanced. He was promptly rewarded with a kick to the ribs that stopped him cold, followed by a slash that knocked him down to the floor. He was on his feet quickly enough, but Zi-O was on him again, and his attempt to parry the next slash sent his own arm wide, which got him a fist to the gut.
“I don’t care who you say I am in the future!” snapped Zi-O. “That’s not who I am right now! That’s what matters the most to me! And who I might become isn’t for you to judge me by!”
He ducked under Geiz’s retaliatory slash, then pulled the blade of his weapon back…
GUN!
...and shot Geiz point-blank. The other visor completely broke, and the red Rider staggered back with a scream, clutching his face.
“My choices are my own! Nobody else’s! And if I have to fight to change my future, then I’m gonna punch the fuck outta my future until I’m the person I want to be! You don’t get to tell me otherwise, got it?!”
Zi-O paused.
And then he turned to Vince.
“Sorry,” he said, “I, um, know this all sounds really stupid.”
“Hey, you’re better at it than me. Need a hand?”
Zi-O shrugged. “Sure. Might as well learn from a legend.”
“You bastards!” Geiz had pulled his hands away from his face. One eye, the flesh around it slashed and bleeding, glared at the two from behind the shattered visor.
“Hey hey hey, don’t give me titles I didn’t earn.” Vince grinned behind his helmet, deftly plugging his cart into the haft of the Breaker. “Let’s clean this up and go home.”
“You got it.” Kouta looked down at his belt. Huh. What if he tried…? He pressed the button on the watch plugged into the Driver…
FINISH TIME!
FINISHING MOVE!
Lightning sparked around Vince’s weapon.
“This is some erection juice, right here.”
MIGHTY CRITICAL FINISH!!!
“Maybe don’t say things like that?” Zi-O span his belt, regardless.
TIME BREAK!
But Geiz wasn’t idle. He was doing very similar things, hitting buttons and spinning his belt. Except his movements belied panic and disbelief that this was happening.
FINISH TIME! DRIVE!
HISSATSU… TIME BURST!
VInce dashed forwards, and managed to swing his hammer at the same time Geiz blinked forwards with a screech of tires. Their weapons clashed, and Ex-Aid yelled as he was pulled sideways, the crimson Rider circling him for another strike.
Except Ex-Aid kept spinning like a neon top. Each time Geiz came in for a blow, his axe met the hammer in a shower of neon sparks.
And then Zi-O flew in, energy streaming off his body as his foot connected with Geiz’ back. And this time, when he stumbled towards Ex-Aid, his weapon wasn’t ready.
The explosion was something tremendous.
---
“I can’t believe the time cop magically escaped.”
Vince, un-henshined, frowned very hard at the patch of scorched earth. It did not give up any secrets.
“...That was pretty alright, kid. Kouta, was it?”
“Yeah.” Kouta, no longer in the Zi-O armour, was staring distractedly at the place where Geiz’s conveyance had been. It, too, was gone.
“...The store says you’re a good kid. But I dunno if I wanna be responsible for two weird people with magic belts.” Vince sighed and shrugged. “No offence. You’d be easier to look after than the other guy. I’m Vince, by the way.”
The kid turned, and gave a small smile. “Thanks for sticking up for me, Vince.”
“Hey, no problem. That’s my job.”
Vince looked down.
“...I dunno how much I can help you. I’m… I dunno if I can teach people. But I do have some advice, if you wanna listen.”
“...sure.” Kouta didn’t seem to know how else to respond to that.
“You pretty much said it in your speech earlier, but don't let time cop get to you. You decide what you do in your future. Don't let him, or that belt, decide for you. Only you get to pick what you do.”
Vince grimaced. “And now, having said that, we have to go prove it. Hey, store. You know the thing I told you to hide?”
Wibble.
“Yeah, go get it.”
---
Dawn blinked as the Clear Driver rattled on the work table in front of her.
“Yo, you're reinstated.” Vince jerked a thumb at Kouta. “We have to save this kid from becoming Time Hitler.”
Kouta smiled and waved, sheepishly.
“...what?”
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